Bakeneko
by Onyxx-09
Summary: Right then, Scott witnessed one of the most drastic transformations. He watched as before his eyes, the calm girl he had known from school, now some kind of creature, transform into a monster. He didn't even have time to gasp before she was upon him, fangs wide, and ripping his arm clean off. He knew that she'd be after Stiles next. Why didn't he call Derek! -part of oneshot series


**Think of this happening around in season 1 when Scott still had his bike.**

**This takes place before the others in this oneshot series, before _Unrequited_, _Abnegated_, and _As You Fade Away_. They can be read out of order, though. If you've read those, you would understand the background to this. If you haven't please do so. This contains a slight mash-up of another character from another show, not in Teen Wolf.**

**[Disclaimer: I, of course, own nothing associated and affiliated with Teen Wolf or the Monogatari series. ]**

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He huffed exasperatedly. Though he pedaled as feverously as he could, and the wheel squeaking was _really _starting to get on his nerves, he couldn't stop. Not until he found her. After seeing her disappear into the same woods that led to the Hale house, he knew he had to. Or else, she'd become another maimed body on the news. ...Or worse.

Not for the first time that night, he wondered why he had grabbed a bicycle instead of calling backup for a set of mechanical wheels. Maybe it was because it was Tsubasa and not someone like Lydia or Danny.. He knew that without Stiles on this one, it might run smoother. He'd seen the way she looked at him...

Oh yeah. And a bike would be quicker. He had to leave as soon as possible and couldn't wait to go around curbs and for a noisy engine to crank.

But he could have called Derek, couldn't he...?

Just the other day, Tsubasa had shown up to class with a large bandage over the side of her face. It had been caused by her foster father.

Tsubasa Hanekawa—or just her last name, Hanekawa, as she preferred them to call her—was one of the newer students at Beacon Hills High. She was from some city in Japan he couldn't remember the name of at the moment. Transferring months after Allison Argent and a few others, it wasn't long before she had been pulled into the clutches of the popular groups, and by much to the annoyance of his dear friend, Stiles. But unlike and awkwardly, she had been captured not by Lydia, but her now-ex, Jackson.

He knew—at least, he guessed—that she wasn't very into him in _that _way. Sure, they'd talked a lot, sat at lunch together on a few occasions until Lydia scared her away again. She'd be at his side more than others and would (metaphorically) run to him when they had to pick lab partners, and hide behind him when Stiles blew his top at her again...

He pursed his lips.

The wind whistled in his ears.

He knew Derek wouldn't like him being on his own so late at night, especially when it was so close to another full moon. Though it was almost half a year since being bitten, the werewolf still supervised the teen like he intended to run away.

Run away.

He had overheard that being the subject of one of Hanekawa's conversation with Jackson over lunch not too long ago. He hadn't told anyone about it though, but Hanekawa herself. She had looked like a deer in headlight when he had confronted her at her locker one morning and hinted at the supposed-private conversation. She had merely stuttered out a half-formed excuse before turning for class. A strong feeling told him it had been because Stiles had walked up behind him then.

Anyways, that is why Scott McCall is out at almost twelve in the morning, biking around town looking for a Japanese girl in two braids, hopefully dragging a suitcase. He had to find her before some...creature did instead.

It was now a one-man search party.

_'How am I supposed to find her at this hour of the night?' _he muttered to himself, _'even IF I found her...?'_

He was now having second thoughts.

It was all ludicrous, he began believing, this was useless; he couldn't do this on his own. Even if she did run away, what was it HIS business. Unless it involved anything else supernatural or finding The Alpha Wolf, it wasn't his problem—he had nothing to deal with it. He was saying it more to convince himself.

Scott was now on a part of town between a park and not faraway from several apartment complexes.

He stopped pedaling. Something was different. There was something, a scent in the air that was different. It was also way, WAY too quiet. The diming streetlights added to the suspiciousness.

He paused to focus on his surroundings.

It was completely silent.

There was nothing but him and the road. Even the street was clear. A lone jungle gym outlined far in the distance was the only landmark aside from the few apartment complexes..

There was a blanketed moon shadowed by the clouds.

Closed windows.

Building stairs.

A 'KEEP OUT' fence.

Someone dragging a large sack.

_'Hold on!' _Scott double-backed. He turned off his bike light.

As the moon came back out, Scott could now see the silhouette clearer.

Some distance away, calmly walking in and out of the streetlights was the outline of some girl.

Scott blinked, shocked.

A repeated joke that had pointed out in the locker room when the boys were preparing for a lacrosse game, was the popular "who would you hook up with if a-b-or c happened?" And an answer he had heard more than once had been about Hanekawa.

_It was her body_, was one answer.

_"I'd say her because of her smarts," _was another.

Still, there were _"those jugs!" _as an answer.

And now, Scott could remember the entire conversation on multiple occasions.

He wondered if it was bad that he could identify a girl by the size of her breasts...

From afar, it certainly looked like her, casually dragging two large bags behind her. But...the girl was wearing only a black bra... And there were two somethings sticking out the top of her head...

"Huh? Wait..." Scott muttered aloud. "Is that really Hanekawa...?"

The third time he blinked, the figure was gone. Panicked, he turned his bike in the direction he saw her disappear to. It wasn't long before Scott was riding a breakneck speed.

What if she ran into the Alpha this late at night? What could he do? Certainly nothing on his own. What could SHE do?! He couldn't have another innocent bitten, to fall under circumstances meant for _him_.

It didn't take him long to find her.

The wheels screamed as he suddenly pushed the brakes, hearing a voice close by.

It was at a bridge where it all took place. There were only the lights that lined the roads and told drivers where the lines are, and those who might be walking late at night where the roads were, so there wasn't much light to even see his own features well. But Scott knew it was a girl, not much older either. It was also difficult because she was kneeled high on a high pillar on the side of the bridge. He could also tell that she had incredulously long, white hair—the color shone in the light. It could have been his own imagination or quiet willing, but the more Scott looked at the girl's face, the more he saw Hanekawa.

After deciding that he had stood there, staring, for long enough, he dared call out to her: "Hanekawa..?"

There was a moment of silence.

"Who are you?"

_Damn. _It wasn't her. Now what was he to do..? Scott put his foot on the pedal, readying to leave.

"A friend of my myaster's, perhaps?" the girl asked.

Scott paused.

She giggled. "Come to think of it, your face does look familiar."

Scott remained still.

"Oh! You're that boy in her class who has that clumsy one wrapped around his finger!"

It WAS Hanekawa!—she had mentioned the same thing upon first observing him and Stiles. Of course, it had been during a time Stiles was fulfilling his end of a lost bet and so the understanding was misinterpreted.

But as he listened, this person—the voice to be more precise—held something Hanekawa did not. It surely sounded more confident..

The girl stood. She only wore dark lingerie. "Perfect timing."

She was more in the surrounding lights not, and Scott could make out her features better. Her white hair flowed to her knees, free of any ties or braids. She no longer wore glasses, and including her lack of clothing, she showed no struggle in keeping the two large sacks in her grasp, which were not balanced on the pillar alongside her. Though her hair shadowed her eyes, he could tell they were a bright amber color. Two things also stuck up from the top of her head.

"I don't get it at all," she continued, "but aren't friends supposed to help each other?"

Scott could have sworn she meowed at the end of her sentence, but was too tired to be sure.

She stood tall before him. "I'll leave these two with you then."

Scott watched as she raised the two bags to the moonlight, and they then no longer looked as sacks.. When she then practically threw them to his feet—literally—his suspicions were confirmed. He could now smell blood and knew one of them must have a cracked skull upon the concrete now.

Two limp adults lay at Scott McCall's feet.

The girl appeared unwavered. "What's the word again," she spoke aloud. "Oh right," she placed a hand on her side, "they're apparently my myaster's "parents"." She smiled wickedly. "I'm nyot sure, though."

The young lacrosse player was speechless. He hasn't moved a muscle since putting down a foot to stop his bike's screeching.

"Please get rid of them for me, friend. Or if you'd like..." She then made a sound that was similar to a meow.

Then, he watched as she changed before his eyes. She was no longer an vague figure, nor an aloof being standing in front of him—and definitely not the timid Hanekawa from school— but now as she hunched over herself, the lightening and shadows gave her a certain appearance and her eyes glow that made him very nervous and uncertain of the success of his original plan here.

It was like looking at one of those monsters in the dark, the ones whose features where obscured by the darkness, making them even more fearful.

Hearing her then hiss, "You could finish them off," made a shiver run down his spine. Scott felt his claws emerge. He flexed them around the handles of his bike.

Tension filled the air for several moments and Scott could feel his fangs coming in. But then "Hanekawa" merely turned and began walking down the lining of the bridge, away.

Instantly in reflex, Scott called, "h-hey, wait!" Whether this was not Hanekawa, maybe it knew where she was; if it was her...this might be more problematic that he suspected.

He left his bike, jogging after her, arm raised as if he could reach her.

When she turned, a beautiful figure in the moonlight, Scott had to stop in his tracks. The glow of the moon illuminated her features in such a remarkable way, he was sure this was no simple supernatural figure. Her hair shone with a dull silvery sheen; her eyes appeared only a darkened brown; her bare skin seemed to absorb the moonlight.

But she wasn't smiling or even grinning. What made Scott pause was the frown on her lips.

"_"Wait,"_ you say?" She was knelt again.

His bike clattered to the ground.

He watched, speechless, as her hair began to bristle—yes, _bristle_.

"Don't you just thrust every kind of expectation onto my master, damn it. You lot are the reason she's become like this again!" Her voice rose in octaval with every passing word.

Right then, Scott McCall witnessed one of the most drastic transformations that night, and for several months until he and co. would catch the Alpha Wolf. He watched as before his eyes, the calm girl had had known from school, now some kind of creature, transform into a monster. Before his eyes, he witnessed as hers turned to a deep red and fangs become prominent under her lips. He watched as her hair reached to night, as if of its own accord, visibly showing and putting emphasis on her anger.

He didn't even have enough time to gasp and take a step backwards before she had scurried from the pillar and leap upon him, fangs wide. Because the heartbeat he placed that foot behind him on the concrete, her teeth had sunk into the flesh of his had-been outstretched arm.

It hurt, that was for sure. Her touch alone was painful—as if being shocked. And hearing the sound of muscle and tendons rip didn't help. As Scott watched her rip his arm clean off his body, he was certain her eyes had indeed turned crimson. And the sight of blood—oh goodness, the blood—there was so much..

When the pain set in then, he screamed.

She stood, practically being bathed in his hybrid blood.

Scott crumbled to the ground, knees first. He screamed. There was already a pool of his own dark liquid under him. _Why,_ he wondered to himself, _why didn't he call Derek..?_

"Hanekawa" stood nearby, the detached arm's sleeve still in her mouth. "Don't myake such a fuss over one arm," she scolded. Her eyes had now turned back to amber.

Her footsteps made small _SPLAT-_ing noises in his blood until her foot came down on the back of his head. And boy, did _that _hurt—it was like volts of electricity were being forced thru his body. No, it was like those volts were being forced _from _his body—like the volts were his energy, his life source. He felt himself growing weak.

"Compared to the pain my myaster has tolerated her entire life, this is like being bitten by a mosquito."

Scott barely grasped the zapping strength to turn his head to the side, and for the first time, he clearly had a look at the monster. And it shocked him. Her pupils her slant and were crimson once more. Her hand curled into a claw; her hair blowing in a wind he could not feel given his current situation. There seemed to be some kind of electric glow given where her foot connected with his body—or that was just his imagination or adrenaline—and was sure she could see his own claws and his face, if he has even transformed, he wouldn't know. Scott could see the stomach-turning image of his limb hanging from her mouth, like an animal. And he saw that those things atop her head were _ears_, some kind of animalistic ears that added to the otherworldly air and persona of her. She was definitely something different, scarier—not just a human infected, like Lydia, and some merciless thing other than himself and Derek altogether.

As he felt his life quickly draining from him, a feeling came over him he hadn't felt since changing for the first time: Scott McCall became afraid.

He knew it was only his new werewolf blood that kept him alive now. "You're master," he found the strength to whisper, to himself.

"That's right, humyan." Her voice was muffled from the sleeve of his detached arm. "Myaster has me nyow. So she doesn't need you, or your hyperactive friends. She doesn't need her parents, friends, or anyone." She dropped his arm. She didn't move her foot at all; Scott gasped for breath. "She doesn't even need herself."

The arm splashed in Scott's own blood.

"What you mean," he had wanted to ask. Somehow, he suspected she must have been able to read lips.

"I'm setting my myaster free," she answered in her weird way of pronunciation. "Freer than anyone else. I'm sure you know nyo one else can do that? The lot of you just tie her down, robbing her of her freedom, happiness."

Scott has to admit, that in the time he has gotten to know Hanekawa, even in the short amount he has, there has been more than once he has gone to her for help and asked to copy homework from. And he was sure that on several times he had ran into her, he had pulled her away from something important.

But never has he thought he had been _that _annoying. ...It was probably also because he had only been thinking of himself at those moments as well...

"I'll start by releasing the stress within her that could myatch the Earth in scale..!"

The feeling of her release can be described as something close to happiness. Scott didn't move still. He remained on the ground, afraid, just watching her instead. She bounded atop another pillar, stretched, and was gone. Just like that.

Poof.

Just disappeared into the dark.

It was some time until Scott sat up, mostly due to him recollecting his barring and of what entirely just happened. When he did, he grabbed his arm. Nearby, the two bodies hadn't moved. He knew that he'd have to lie about what had happened—and how to explain his blood at the scene.

He attached his arm, flinching at the pain before feeling himself beginning to heal.

He'd just say that he saw a figure, went to confront it and got his blood spilled in the process, no matter how humiliating it sounded. Besides, what person would believe him that an animal woman in lingerie had ripped his arm off and nearly killed him by zapping his life with a single touch?

Yeah, he decided, he'd go with the lie too. Stiles would agree if he were here as well.

Oh god!, the feeling of dread came over Scott. Stiles! The way Hanekawa had eyed his friend in the past, the "releasing" the changed Hanekawa was talking about, Scott was sure his friend was somewhere on that monster's list.

The first thing he did after the girl left was dealt with the messed up situation at hand—he started calling an ambulance at 911. He sighed, taking in the mess and knew that under normal circumstances, he'd need a deck brush and a lot of water to clean up the blood here.

His phone was dying.

He was picked up with one more bar left. His arm had attached by then, but hadn't completely healed.

**. . .**

The first place he went to after that was to his job to speak to Deaton, his boss and local druid knowledgeable on all things supernatural. But upon retelling his story, Deaton had been clueless.

"It is some kind of oddity I've only heard of existing in Japan," is all he had said. "So it's understandable if your friend is Japanese. This type is not generally powerful but it can pack a mean punch. It resides at a level almost equal to that of werewolves, but slight. I'm sorry, not much is known about it, unfortunately, and that's all I can tell you." He was more surprised that the teen had survived with such an injury.

Next, Scott had gone to Derek for any hopeful information and aid for his healing.

**. . .**

That night, werewolves weren't the only things running the streets.

By school time next week, stories of a ghost-cat or personified cat were already flying thru the halls.

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**See, I told you so. Again, if you haven't read the other oneshots, this might sound confusing.**

**I don't want to beg for reviews, but they really are the best gift to give and motivate for more.**


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